The Apollo Prophecies
by The-Lady-Isis
Summary: Annex story to 'Empathy' - recommend you read that first. The title basically says what it's about - I don't own anything. Enjoy!
1. No

**A/N: Here's part one of the Apollo Prophecies. Simply what would have happened had Bruce not taken Hera's offer. In my mind. And this story is dedicated to Hepburn, since the whole thing is her idea, so cheers chuck!  
**

**Chapter One – No**

He hated the White House. It never ended well.

After all that had happened – or not quite happened – in this building, it was not somewhere he wanted to be. Especially not in a Batsuit. It seemed to be a magnet for bullets. Once he'd been knocked on his ass for the sixth time in a row, Bruce considered growling aloud in frustration. He didn't, instead kicking out and knocking the CIA agent off his feet. Another kick in the head knocked him out.

Clark's hand appeared in front of him; Bruce took it and let his friend pulled him to feet. Superman's face was as serious as he'd ever seen it. He knew what Clark was going to say. "I don't want to do this, Bruce."

For the briefest fraction of a second, Bruce's mouth tightened as if in pain, but he nodded. "I know."

"There's no choice."

"I know."

Clark's mouth was turned down as well – if the world had any chance at peace then this had to be stopped, and right now. Unfortunately, the secret service agents currently charging at them seemed quite intent on stopping _them_.

A half-dozen came after him; almost twenty went for Superman. He could hear his colleague trying to reason with the agents, trying to explain that they were only here to do their job. Bruce could have told him not to bother. He was wasting his breath. As far as they were concerned, the Justice League had just launched an attack against the President of the United States. No matter that he was one of the most evil men ever to walk the surface of the planet – the president was the president.

The six agents lasted a little over twenty seconds before they went down. The ones against Clark lasted only marginally longer, but then there were more of them. Once they were all unconscious, the two of them sprinted through the White House, heading as fast as they could toward the Oval Office.

They were too late.

Bruce didn't need to have Clark's superhearing to pick up the chilling _crack _as Luthor's neck was calmly snapped. Superman didn't bother with opening the door – he just punched through it. Bruce followed more sedately. There was nothing to be done now. Their fate was sealed. Unless Clark could do what needed to be done.

Bruce knew he had to.

His heart prayed he couldn't.

Standing over the ruins of the president's desk, its polished wooden surface split cleanly in two, was the murderer of Lex Luthor. He thanked God she'd cut her hair. It was so much easier to pretend she wasn't Diana, to believe she'd never been his Princess.

Lex's neck was at an awkward angle, most definitely broken. His expression was slightly stunned. Bruce wondered briefly if Lex had been disappointed that his killer wasn't Kal-El. In the end it didn't really matter. A dead president was a dead president.

"Wonder Woman." They'd long ago given up calling her Diana. Diana of Themyscira didn't exist anymore. He should know – she'd died in his arms. From the pitch of Superman's voice, he could do what had to be done. Deep, harsher than Bruce had ever heard it. Reluctant, but now resolved. Determined.

Wonder Woman's answer would be what it always was. Over the last few months, she'd pushed the boundaries, breaking small rules in the name of peace. "It is for the greater good, Superman."

"That's not for us to decide," he spat. "I won't have us become the Justice Lords."

"No one is asking you to," she replied, voice dead as ever.

"You know I have to stop you. I don't-"

The end of the sentence was cut off as Bruce tackled him to the ground. He saw Clark's expression turn to outrage before Wonder Woman's fist slammed into the wall where his head had just been. One thing Batman had learned about Wonder Woman since Skatha. You did not ever, ever _warn _her that you were about to attack her. That led to her strategy – pre-emptive strike. Of course, getting in the way of her target wasn't a great idea either. As Bruce found out when she lifted him with one hand and threw him backwards, over Luthor's corpse (which he could swear was almost smiling), and out of the window. He landed more than twenty feet away on the White House lawn, groaning when he felt several ribs crack. Not one to let a little pain or a few broken bones stop him, Bruce got up and got six steps toward the White House.

Before two dozen secret service agents all descended on him. Unlike the others, they didn't bother with attacking him. Even injured Batman could take them down with practically no effort. So instead they stopped ten feet away and pulled out their guns. "Freeze!"

He did, but pointed at the White House. "I'm not the problem."

As evidenced when the ground shook. The two strongest beings on the planet were going at it, hammer and tongs. And it looked as though the strongest woman was winning- especially when Superman crashed through the roof of the White House, quickly followed by a red and blue blur that slammed into him mid-air. It was going to be close, but she was going to win, Kryptonite or no Kryptonite.

It was Wonder Woman's turn to be forced back with a cry of pain as Superman landed a punch that sent her flying backward fifty feet. He tried laser vision next – the silver bracers took care of that one, glowing with heat but still allowing her close enough to hit back.

Bruce couldn't tell how long he watched his best friend be slowly murdered by the woman he'd loved. But he wasn't surprised when Clark eventually fell still. Wonder Woman's fist didn't. It took her another ten minutes to punch her way through his skull. It took the secret service agents ten seconds to open fire.

She'd gotten more accurate he noted. Instead of just reflecting the bullets into harmless, aimless directions, she shot them back at the agents. They were all wearing bullet-proof vests, of course. Just not on their heads. Finally, drying Kryptonian blood on her hand, Wonder Woman stood before him, face emotionless. She asked one simple question.

"Ally, or enemy?"

---

**A/N: So there you go – review please!**


	2. Yes

**A/N: I'm glad people liked it! Here's the next part. Which if possible is sappier than the ending of _Empathy_. **

**Chapter Two – Yes**

"Bruce, are you sure about this?"

"That's the seventeenth time you've asked me that," he warned. "I'm counting."

Diana shifted slightly. They were on the couch in the living room, Diana stretched out with her head in his lap, his hands idly playing with her hair. "But-"

"Diana," he interrupted softly, thinking about putting a finger on her lips to quiet her. He thought better of it. He had a point to make, after all, and if he touched her lips he wouldn't be making it for a while. "It doesn't matter _how _I get to marry you."

"But you're Bruce Wayne! You're meant to have a huge, enormously publicised wedding with…doves and a cathedral and diamond wedding favours for the guests and two thousand people in attendance!"

"Do we know two thousand people?" he questioned, not bothering to hide his smile. It was getting easier every day. "And what's the point of doves? They'd just fly away anyway."

"I could catch them," she suggested.

"But you wouldn't," he said assuredly. "Besides, I don't think you could catch them."

She got up, crossing her arms. "Oh couldn't I? And I suppose that Batman could?"

"Of course he could," he replied arrogantly. "And much faster than you."

"You insufferable man," she said. "I have no idea why I'm bothering with you. Clearly I should be marrying Alfred."

"Clearly."

She snorted. A terribly undignified thing to do for a princess, and not all that ladylike either, but with Diana neither of things mattered. "But you'd wear him out," he grinned. "You're working at wearing _me _out."

Turning back to him, she grinned like a wolf. A ridiculously beautiful, devastatingly sexy, wolf. "What a shame," she murmured, moving in close. Expecting her to kiss him, he let a groan escape when she nipped his bottom lip before pulling away again. _Why did I have to teach her that?_ In Diana he had a willing student; Bruce found himself a more than enthusiastic teacher. They'd been together four months, Bruce Wayne's engagement to Wonder Woman announced just a few days ago. If he'd had his way, they would have been married three months and three weeks ago. They'd 'met' for the second time at a charity ball, then had their first date a few days after that. That had been weird – especially since it really _was _their first date. It wasn't unpleasant, or at all awkward. It was…just them having diner, except Tim was missing and the food was slightly poorer quality than Alfred's cooking.

As for the wedding…that was tomorrow. Not that any of the press knew that. Clark and Lois – both guests – were under strict orders not to leak it to the _Planet_. A Batglare had worked well on one, an exclusive interview with Diana on becoming a mother for the first time (she'd discovered just a week ago she was expecting - and hadn't stopped grinning since) had guaranteed the silence of the second.

Tomorrow, on a beach facing Themyscira, in the Caribbean. For some reason that she couldn't explain, Diana was determined that she wasn't going to wear shoes on her wedding day. She already had the dress; a simple Grecian-style gown, cool white linen held together with gold broaches at the shoulders, her lasso around her waist. There was no other ornamentation, and apart from a plain gold wedding band she wouldn't be wearing any jewellery – and somehow (he didn't need to see it), Bruce knew he was going to have difficulty speaking.

"Bruce?"

"Mmm?"

She shifted against him slightly. "I love you."

Amazing how he never got tired of hearing that. "Love you too."

Her weight shifted again. "Are you…falling _asleep_?" she demanded, only half-serious.

"It was a late night," he protested. "And I distinctly remember a certain princess deciding that sleep was against my best interests."

"It still is," she whispered, mouth brushing against her ear.

Suddenly Bruce wasn't so tired anymore.

---

It was so simple, in the end. They married at sunset, blue sea, golden sun and white sand. It didn't matter what the vows were; they'd have to have a civil ceremony to make it legal in America anyway, but it wasn't everyday the goddess of love presided over a marriage ceremony. Superman had to physically hold Flash back, but the bride and groom didn't notice. His suspicions had been correct; watching Diana walk towards him, Bruce's throat had gone utterly dry, his jaw dropping. It was only Dick's firm elbow into his ribs that reminded him to close his mouth. Her sharp eyes caught the movement, and she grinned, dazzling Bruce far more effectively than the late evening sun was managing. Hippolyta put her daughter's hand in his with a look that said quite clearly _hurt my daughter and I will kill you_, but her gaze softened when she saw the look of utter joy on Diana's face.

Aphrodite spoke a few words in ancient Greek, then conjured out of nowhere a vine of ivy leaves, interspaced with diamonds. She wound it around their clasped hands, elaborating. "Ivy, for eternal love. And diamonds…" She reached up and pressed her thumb lightly on Diana's forehead, then Bruce's, leaving raindrop shaped jewels glimmering there. "…the tears of the gods. We bless this union."

Whether or not Aphrodite would have said 'you may kiss the bride', no one knew, since Bruce didn't wait for permission.

Diana didn't seem too perturbed.

---

**A/N: I hope you liked this – was sappy, I know. But sappy is good. Embrace your inner sap!**

**And in a bout of shameless self-advertising, please read my new story, **_**Blind As A Bat**_**, over in the Batman Begins/The Dark Knight section. If that's not for you, then don't worry, I have not stopped writing JL fanfiction – there will be more! But it would be nice if you wanted to read the other one too. XD**


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